


What Is and What Will Never Be

by ArianneMaya



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1930s, Hints of Steve/Bucky, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Prostitution, hints of D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:10:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1966773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianneMaya/pseuds/ArianneMaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He loves the feeling of being good for something when everyone around him isn't expecting much out of him. He loves pushing his body to the limit of what it can take, the rougher, the better. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Is and What Will Never Be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Solicited Love Fest](http://solicited-love.livejournal.com/). Many thanks to @Eeyore9990 for the beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Steve pushes his hands against the brick wall, just in time to prevent his face from being mashed against it at the first thrust of the guy's hard dick in his ass. 

He bites his tongue to stop the moan that tries to tear its way out of his throat. The stretch and burn is almost too much, only spit to ease the way, sometimes a little more if he's lucky, but not today. He doesn't care, though. It feels too good for him to care. He holds himself against the wall as best as he can, aware that his hands will be raw by the end of it, but it doesn't matter. Not when his toes curl, not when his dick hardens with every thrust, with the glorious feeling of fullness and too much too soon. 

The money is a big part of why he's doing it, of course, because there aren't that many job opportunities for a ninety-pound little guy with all of Steve's health issues, and this is the best way for him to make money and fast. He doesn't need to, Bucky would say, but if the little Steve earns can ensure that Bucky won't kill himself working to provide for them both, it's worth it. 

And he can't deny that he loves it. The need for money alone wouldn't be enough to get him on his knees in a dark alley with a stranger forcing his dick down his throat. It wouldn't be enough to get him here, with his pants around his knees, being fucked to within an inch of his life. He loves choking on a stranger's dick, loves the feeling of hands on his body that aren't careful, that show no hesitation in holding him down and leaving bruises. 

After a lifetime of people pitying him for everything he can't do, it feels good to be with people who don't treat him like he's made of glass. After one too many disastrous double dates – because the dames Bucky sweet-talks into going out with them always expect Bucky's friend to be another Bucky, not a guy so frail that he barely reaches their shoulder when he stands at his full-height – he loves the feeling that someone wants him so much that they can't help themselves. 

The moans he has to muffle into his own hands in order not to get caught aren't faked. The way his dick hardens with every hard thrust in his ass isn't just a physical response. He loves it, the feeling of being used, of being good for something when everyone around him isn't expecting much out of him. He loves pushing his body to the limit of what it can take, the rougher, the better. 

“Too bad we don't have a bed.” The harsh whisper in his ear makes him shiver. “Bet you'd look real pretty with your ass in the air.” 

Steve sucks in a breath, the image hitting him like a punch in the gut as a particularly brutal thrust makes him see stars. The guy is one of his regulars, one he's seen enough times that he knows how much Steve can take. He knows how fragile Steve's body is but doesn't let that knowledge stop him from leaving finger-shaped bruises on Steve's hips and thighs. He delights in using well-timed words to make Steve squirm and angle his body, silently begging for more, harder, faster. 

And he gives it to him until Steve can't focus on anything but this feeling of being filled to the brink, of being used for a stranger's pleasure, and enjoying every second of it. It almost hurts, but the little hint of pain does nothing to deflate Steve's erection. Instead, it's a reminder that this isn't about him, and there's something about making somebody else feel good without a care in the world about his own well-being that goes straight to his head, making him dizzy with a lust so intense that it feels like he could come without being touched. 

Feeling the guy come is almost enough to set him off too, but not quite. Instead, Steve pulls his pants up and buttons them, accepts a friendly touch on the shoulder and gives a nod to a, “See you soon, yes?” 

When he heads home, Steve has money in his pocket, come leaking out of his ass, and he's feeling lighter than he has in weeks. 

He loves getting fucked for money, and never imagines himself with anybody but the stranger he's currently with. It feels too good for him to focus on anything else. 

Afterward, though...

If Bucky's home, Steve evades his questions as best as he can. If he isn't, Steve gives himself a minute to come down from his high and catch his breath before he locks himself in the bathroom. 

Minutes later, his pants are back around his knees and, with one hand around his dick, he allows himself to fantasize. 

He thinks about Bucky finding out by catching him with a random stranger. 

He knows that in reality, Bucky would feel guilty that Steve has to resort to this to make money, as if it somehow meant that Bucky failed to protect him. 

In his fantasies, though, Bucky hauls him home by the scruff of his neck, and Steve ends up naked, bent over his own bed as Bucky warms the skin of his ass with his belt. 

He tightens his grip on his dick, thinking about Bucky fucking him hard, without worrying that he might be hurting Steve, that Steve is too fragile to take it. He thinks about Bucky holding him down so well that he can't move, leaving him covered in bruises and bite marks. 

It only takes a couple of strokes for him to come over his own hand. He can almost hear Bucky's voice in his mind. _That'll teach you to give away what's mine._

Steve rests his forehead against the wall. It's a very nice fantasy, but he knows it will never be anything more than that. 

What he and Bucky have is one of the very few good things left in Steve's life. There's no point torturing himself by hoping for something else.


End file.
